For Science
by RunsWithScizors
Summary: Portals. Robots. A slowly increasing feeling of unease as you stare death in the face for the sixth time that day, only to wave as it passes by yet again. Just another day in Aperture Science. (An attempt to tell Portal as a story, narrated by Chell)
1. The Voice

**After years of writing video games as fanfics, and in need of a challenge, I have decided to do Portal. After years of editing for me, and with inspiration from the "Freeman's Mind" series, my usual co-writer has decided to join in. This is now part "Chell's Mind: The Written Series" and part experiment, as it is the first time either of us has published anything written in first-person narration.**

 **Don't worry about the past/present tense issues that might pop up. We're doing our best, and I chose the one that came more naturally. Not all dialogue came from the game, but we're trying to keep it close enough at first.**

* * *

Once upon a time, a little girl followed her father to work one day. She was fascinated by the stone-cold science of the place, and then it all went down.

That little girl was me.

Now that we've gotten the backstory out of the way, how about some real answers? Like, for example, why, as an adult, I found myself locked in a room with nothing but a bed and a toilet, the whole place smelling like a hospital?

Well, about that...

 ** _"Welcome to the Aperture Science Computer Aided Enrichment Center."_**

Yeah, that pretty much covers it. Thanks, computer voice box.

 ** _"We hope your stay in the relaxation chamber has been a good one. Before we begin your testing, please remember that though learning and fun are the primary objectives, serious injury may occur. For your safety and for others..."_**

The voice breaks, drowning out the words and sending sparks flying from, well, everywhere. I can only hope it's a glitch in the system.

 ** _"The portal will open in three...two..."_**

A flash of orange light, and I step through the new hole in the wall.

* * *

Was this the test?

Was this _seriously_ the test?

A big red button is there in the middle of the floor, clearly saying 'stand here.' There is nothing difficult about this at all.

Perhaps the test is for these things attached to my legs? You can't call them shoes, they're just heels attached to a knee brace. They're heavy, and make walking a bit of a challenge. That could be some new military equipment, right?

So standing on the button was probably testing the weight of the brace bars, or whatever they were. I could understand that.

The light next to the locked door turns on as soon as I stand on the button, so I was right about that. The doors open almost instantly, but the real surprise was a large cube dropping right next to the door. So that was how to keep the door open once I'd unlocked it, was it?

It isn't hard at all, and I'll admit that I'm a bit disappointed by that. Compared to the crowbars attached to my legs, the cube is almost light, and easily dragged to the button. The cake was as good as mine.

 ** _"Good job. You seem to understand basic button-pressing techniques."_** Thank you again, disembodied voice. **_"You may now move on to the actual test chamber."_**

I can detect the sarcasm there, but I'm not buying into it. I'm not even going to give that computer a response. I'm just going to go through the weird curtain thing that looks like it's spitting electricity, head into the _real_ test chambers, and leave behind a legend. Or maybe a rotting corpse, I don't know.

Exactly whose rotting corpse may vary.

 ** _"Please note the Aperture Science Emancipation Grill placed in front of the elevator,"_** the voice says, just as I cautiously stick my hand through it. **_"It has been designed to emancipate any unauthorized equipment. The Aperture Science Weighted Storage Cube, for instance."_**

So no cubes through the magic electric curtain. Got it.

* * *

The actual test chamber is much more like the kind of chamber I was imagining when they woke me up for testing. Still shiny, and still coming with that sharp hospital smell, but actually looking almost like it could be a challenge for any other person.

The button is on the other side of a big, orange-rimmed hole, with the Aperture Science Weighted Storage Cube (trademark) on the other side of an enormous wall of what seemed to be glass. I could smash it, I suppose. Difficult to avoid getting blood everywhere, with legs bare from the knee down, but a little blood was nothing compared to starving to death like a lab mouse too stupid to realize the maze was made of cardboard.

I did that experiment in fourth grade, actually. I caught the mice myself, built the maze, and had it all knocked down in about half an hour. Either that was a really smart mouse, or my craftsmanship was crap. Crapsmanship...

But I'm smarter than a mouse, even an intelligent one. The computer lady says some words, but I'm not confused enough to care yet. The big red button on the other side of the hole disappears, replaced with a door that looks like the previous exit. If I'm not wrong, the next one should lead me directly to the cube, no smashing required.

I'm not wrong. I still have to peek around the corners of the cube, just in case. This area is dark and dry, and the last thing I want is a spider crawling on me, running its hairy legs across my arms as it crawls up the sleeve of my jumpsuit, up to my neck, before sinking its spider teeth into my flesh, injecting me with probably-harmless venom and...

No, that's stupid. Spiders aren't vampires. Vampires are actually cool. In most cases, anyway.

But _who knows_ what Aperture Science does to spiders? I've heard the founder was completely out of his nut by the time he kicked it, he could have mutated them and kept them as pets and let them breed in the hallways...

I grab onto the cube and jump into the portal just in time. It switches back to the button room almost immediately, and I hear the satisfying sound of the door opening as soon as I put the cube in the proper place.

 ** _"Perfect. Please move quickly to the exit, as the effects of prolonged exposure to the button are not part of this test."_**

It's a _button_ , I want to say. What harm could that thing cause?

I keep my mouth closed, though, because I have a feeling that I really don't want to find out.

* * *

 ** _"Please remember that a noticeable taste of blood is not part of the testing protocol,"_** the computer lady says, and I stare at the speaker in the new test chamber. She's kidding, right? **_"It is merely a side-effect of the Aperture Science Material Emancipation Grill. The Aperture Science Emancipation Grill may, on semi-rare occasions, emancipate dental fillings, crowns, tooth enamel, and teeth."_**

I don't taste anything, but I run my tongue over my teeth, just in case. Nothing feels out of place, but I have to be more careful from now on.

I peek through the window at the actual test. A gun shooting blue lasers, opening blue portals. My goal isn't obvious from this point, but then, at first I'd thought that my goal for the last test was to smash the glass to get the cube. My current objective is to...grab the gun? Is that what she wanted?

Well, why not. Maybe I can smuggle it out of here when I get my freedom. How much would a portal gun go for, if I sold it to the military instead of pawning it? Probably a lot of money, enough that I can get a place to live while I work on finding a real job. Or maybe I can claim I invented it...say I lost the blueprints for this 'prototype' and hire more competent scientists to take it apart and figure out how it worked...

The door opens as soon as I get close enough, and I run down the stairs, barely missing getting hit with a portal to my skull. I walk through the wall instead, diving for the gun in case she booby-trapped it. I don't think it's radioactive, either, but you can never be too sure on that. I'll have to make sure that the versions I sell the army pass radiation tests. I don't want to kill our soldiers, just the other guys.

 ** _"Well done,"_** the voice says, and I grip the gun more tightly. Like everything else in these chambers, it's shiny and white and smells of some strange chemical, but I've kind of gotten used to it. **_"You can now create your own completely safe portals. Please note that the Aperture Science Handheld Portal Device comes with a set of rules that must be obeyed on punishment of failure. Do not touch the operational end of the device. Do not look into the operational end of the device."_**

She really likes hearing herself talk, doesn't she?

 ** _"Do not submerge the device in water, even partially, and do not feed it after midnight. Do not sell the device to another test subject for cash, credit, or fruit roll-ups. The Aperture Science Handheld Portal Device is not a suitable weapon in case of a zombie apocalypse."_**

Ok, the only reason these would even be rules is if some idiot got the gun before me and tried at least one of the above. And _of course_ it would be good against zombies, I'd just blast them to somewhere high up and get away. I could take out more zombies with this thing than with a machine gun!

It wouldn't be quite as fun, but it would sure be a lot quieter.

 ** _"Do not test the limits of the device unless there is a specific test designed to test the limits of the device. Do not take apart the device. Do not try to upgrade the device with your primitive monkey fingers."_**

The elevator's been at the next destination for thirty seconds now, but I've been listening to the rules carefully and imagining all the morons who ended up making them necessary. The test would still be there when she shut up.

 ** _"Most importantly, do not -"_**

And then she shuts off, with a loud humming sound. Maybe someone got sick of listening to her and unplugged her. That's what I would have done.

Well, there's no time to waste. The sooner I finish this, the sooner I can leave.


	2. The Gun

A gap in the floor, three platforms, and no cubes or buttons. This test is easy.

Well, it looks easy, anyway. I actually have no idea how to operate the gun. How am I supposed to get it right if she didn't give me any instructions?

Ok, Chell, you can do this. Just be careful, don't touch or look at the operational end of the device...

 ** _"We don't have all day, you know."_** Oh, so they'd plugged her back in. Great. **_"Your test timer is ticking."_**

Oh, so now I'm being timed? Well, forget you, lady, human brains don't work as fast as your stupid processor.

I need more creative replacement swears. I could use the real ones, but if I'm going to go back outside and possibly be around small children, I'll have to work to express my emotions in ways that won't get the parents mad at me. It shouldn't be too hard, if you say it angrily enough anything can sound like a curse word. Like...food, for instance. Chips! Oranges! Pie! Pie your face, lady, human brains don't work as fast as your processor!

I'll get back to that. The device was already on, and I shoot my first portal onto the floor. The thing only makes blue portals, unfortunately. I can't sell this, they're no good without the orange ones. Jump in, shoot another portal, step through the orange again...

 ** _"Excellent."_**

And trigger the voice. Just like I thought. The elevator closes behind me, I check to make sure all of my teeth are still there, and I start to move.

 ** _"Remember, Bring Your Daughter To Work Day is the perfect time to have her tested,"_** the voice says.

Joke's on her. I don't have a daughter, or a son for that matter.

Unless they made me pregnant when I was out. With the magic curtain that can pull out teeth and a gun that isn't supposed to be fed after midnight, I wouldn't put it past them to put weird dog-human DNA fusions into a human woman's body. If I have puppies in the next year, I'll sue the place.

Maybe then I'll get the money I missed out on by the portal device only shooting blue.

* * *

The next test has another button. Stepping on it shows that it drops the cube, just like the first one. Into a pit this time, making it a little more interesting.

So, let's see. If I had a gun that shot two portals, I could put one on the ceiling above the button, shoot the other under the cube, and not have to move from this space. But, since I do not have a gun that shoots two portals, the ceiling-drop is ruled out.

Second option, ask the computer lady for a new cube. Ruled out, I don't want to speak to that thing if I can help it. Something tells me she'll respond with the type of sarcasm I like to try to keep in my head. I can't trust an AI until I know its real personality.

So, that left 'pick up the cube myself' as the only option.

I'll still try to aim for the cube, though. Just in case the 'drop' method would still work.

I miss, but at least it gives me a shortcut to the button, even if it does make me a little dizzy. Is she sure the portals are safe?

The button opens the door, and, as always, Computer Lady congratulates me. This time, though, her elevator speech makes me a little worried.

 ** _"As part of the next test, we will not be watching your progress in the next chamber. You are entirely on your own."_**

It's not like she or the scientists in charge have ever done anything to help me in the first place. The only difference I see in this case is that she won't be talking to me.

It's not a bad option, to be honest, but I kind of like annoying her by not solving the tests in twenty seconds. And, you know, I might like hearing her talk, too. Not the sound of her voice, but the fact is that humans are social creatures by nature. I wasn't particularly good with people, either, but just hearing voices from another source was enough to keep that part of me satisfied.

But maybe having no computer telling me what to do would be even better than I thought.

* * *

Minute #10. Still no sign of intelligence, artificial or otherwise, besides me. Ceasing personal test in three, two, one...

I tap my gun against the wall. Counting to sixty ten times - that's counting to six hundred - was more boring than anything I had ever done. I had mentally solved the test in the first three, but I wanted to see how long I could postpone the physical part before I cracked. Now that I know the answer is ten minutes, give or take a few seconds, I'm ready to move on.

I take aim and shoot my first portal at the wall, grabbing the cube from the ledge and dropping it onto one of the two floor buttons. I wish again for a two-colored portal gun, fire at the second cube, and pick it up through another wall-portal.

I have to hand it to them, the tests are getting harder. I'll admit that much. But the only things that can stop me are my own personal issues, and the computer isn't artificially intelligent enough to guess those, is she?

I shouldn't mention it. She might have guessed those things and was planning a test to put me face-to-face with my own weaknesses. I don't know what she'd be testing, though. 'Self-Esteem: Humanity's Most Fragile Enemy Of All.' Yeah, that would go so well on a science writer's resume...

 ** _"As part of the testing protocol, the statement that we would not be watching was an outright fabrication."_** Yeah, I thought so, you witch. You even made the way to the elevator require portals this time. You deserve to lose whatever I take from this place. ** _"It took you long enough."_**

I run my tongue over my teeth as I make it to the elevator, still having no damage. If procrastinating got me scolded, it was probably a good thing.

 ** _"As part of the testing protocol, we will stop enhancing the truth in three...two..."_**

Static. Clever. I'm not trusting anything coming out of her speaker again.

* * *

Bouncing light above an orange portal, with an unknown device only a few feet from it. One portal above the strange device, and...yes, just as I imagined, test solved in four seconds flat.

 ** _"Unbelievable. You, [subject name here] must be the pride of [subject hometown here]."_**

Chell. Could she at least use Chell? For corn's sake, it's not like it's hard. She isn't addressing me with a _number,_ so why shouldn't she use a name?

I shouldn't be upset. She's just a computer, after all. Maybe it's not in her programming.

The current room isn't as easy as the last one. There's no solving it from here, no portal where the moving light hits...

Wait. No _orange_ portal...

Maybe the test is that easy, after all.

A blast to the wall that the light ball keeps slamming into should do it. Then another portal right above the platform...yes, that might work. I adjust the gun and take aim, knowing the computer is watching.

Primitive monkey fingers or not, I am on a roll here. The only downside is that the platform moves, and my timing is a little off. I'd better not have to do this again.

She doesn't have anything to say to me as I take the elevator to the next test. Maybe I'm finally getting out of here. I've lost count of how many tests I'd been put through, but to be fair I never counted in the first place. The gun would be useless in the outside world, so I could turn it in to the person in charge when I left. And the heavy knee braces, too. I liked the height involved in using them, but dragging them around is cutting down on my speed.

Wait. Maybe the braces are why I haven't smashed my face in when I fall through a portal. The knee braces help focus gravity so that I end up landing on my feet each time, and they absorb the shock of the impact for me.

Either Aperture Science is just as nuts as its founder, or this was actually a pretty good idea. I'm not sure which.

* * *

What the crap?

What the ACTUAL crap?

This has gone too far.

 ** _"Please note that we have added a consequence for failure."_** Oh, really? The potential of snapping the braces and breaking every bone in my legs not enough for you? Now you had to flood the room with A PIT OF ACID and you have the nerve to use the word CONSEQUENCE? Something tells me you don't want me to be alive anymore. Where are the scientists in charge of safety monitors?

 ** _"Contact with the chamber floor will result in an unsatisfactory mark on your testing record. Followed by death."_**

And a pie in your face, too.

Food swearing. Definitely off. I'll have to dedicate myself to finding the new child-friendly versions for when I go back outside. When I'm NOT facing down certain doom.

Wait. I have a portal gun. I'll just shoot myself to the other end and solve the test from there. Where's the orange space hole?

Oh. Over the death water. Of course. So testing first, then safety. Well, if they don't care about the safety of their employees, I'll just have to sue them for way more than they're worth.

So it's firing the light at the portal, but the seal is bouncing it back. A blue one across from the 'light-catcher,' as I'm calling it, and the moving platform carries me safely across the death-water. I'm expecting it to throw me off at any moment, but it behaves itself this time and just drops me off at the exit.

 ** _"Very good. Please note that any appearance of danger is there to help with your testing experience."_**

Liar. I'll just blow this place up and see how you like it then.


	3. The Upgrade

**_"The Enrichment Center regrets to inform you that this test is unsolvable. Make no attempts to solve it."_**

You know, maybe I'd take you seriously if you hadn't proven to me that you are a LIAR who is OUT TO GET ME. And what have I ever done to you? Sure, I threatened to steal your fancy gun and all, but that was before I knew it was completely useless. And maybe I procrastinated on a test, but you said you weren't watching me. I could've taken a NAP in there if I'd known you weren't going to wake me up with your stupid words.

Besides, all of that was in my head. Unless you can read my mind, you wouldn't even know that.

I hope you can't read my mind, actually. That would not be fun.

I shouldn't think about it. Just solve the unsolvable test and prove that I'm on to her lies.

It would be easier if I had a gun for orange portals, too, but improvising shouldn't be too hard. The first one over by the box, carry it out, shoot another through a window. It isn't even difficult!

 ** _"Excellent. You remained resolute and resourceful in an atmosphere of extreme pessimism."_** More like saw through your stupid lie. ** _"You are on your way to finishing your tests."  
_**  
Well, that's good news. How many do I have left?

 ** _"You are not finished yet,"_** she continues, ** _"but I would like to let you know that you only have -"_** more garbled nonsense **_"- left to go."_**

Am I supposed to feel happy about that?

Oh, well. Time for the next test.

* * *

Stairs. The next test is stairs.

No, not zapping myself up glue-covered stairs. Not climbing the stairs to reach a place where I would use portals to get myself across an acid pit. Just plain, regular stairs with a very steep drop at the top. An orange portal above my head, sealed as always, and no escape.

Unless...

No. They wouldn't. It would be too dangerous, there's no way they'd want a test subject to fling herself across a gorge where she could drop fifteen feet onto solid concrete.

Oh, who am I kidding? This is _exactly_ the type of thing I expect these people to do. No amount of thinking would change that. Blue hole in the floor, take aim, and here we go.

It's barely more than a jump, really. I don't know what I was so worried about. All I have to do now is find the elevator and...

Oh, for the love of corn, not this again.

A much deeper hole greets me, and again, I have to fling myself across. A portal here would probably make me fall right back down to the ground, and what good will that do for science?

That ledge looks a lot like a diving board. Maybe they encourage their test subjects to commit suicide here. After the day I've had, if it's been only one day, it would not surprise me in the slightest.

Wait. Not suicide - that would be counter-productive in this case. The chamber was built for testing the portal gun, right? Maybe that means that I'm going to have to jump, not to my death, but into a portal to gain enough momentum through gravity to fly across the hole and land in front of the elevator.

I'm not afraid of heights, but this is just pushing the limit. This place deserves to be sued, then burned down, and then sued for the insurance money.

But, seeing no other choice, I know where my next portal has to go.

I've flown in dreams before, usually on a broom. This was exactly as I'd imagined it would be: terrifying, with a large side of silent screaming. Sheer willpower alone seals my jaw as I soar through the air, twisting halfway through as the heavy leg braces adjust my center of gravity to take the impact themselves. They vibrate upon landing, and I sink down to the floor and hold my head in my hands to stop from losing whatever gunk these people have been feeding me.

I can't remember the last time I ate, actually. Have they even been feeding me? How in the world am I still alive? I could really go for some Chinese food right now. Or maybe cake, my sweet tooth is crying. I'll totally get both when I get out of here.

 ** _"You seem to understand how a portal affects momentum, or more accurately, how it does not,"_** Computer Lady says. I don't move, still sitting there holding my head. Maybe pretending to be injured would get me some worker's benefits. **_"Your break is scheduled for after the tests. Get back up, we're not done."_**

I'm not even done with the chamber yet, am I?

* * *

It's official. I hate everybody.

I didn't hate anybody before this, only things that had no concept of the term hatred. Spiders, my lack of height, the fact that we couldn't genetically engineer spiders to stay outside of houses, the fact that leg implants were not a thing and would make the person look silly if they were.

But now? Now my hatred was directed at the AI talking to me, who in her defense may not have been able to process emotions, and at her human programmers...who, now that I think about it, probably had no clue how emotions work, either. I hate them, I hate this building, I hate this useless portal gun, and I hate my life.

But then, terms such as "Speedy thing goes in, speedy thing comes out" made it at least somewhat entertaining. If I'm going to die in here, I might as well die laughing.

A portal shot onto the wall takes me to a button. Having only a moment to consider the odds of it being helpful in any way compared to the possibility of an exploding booby trap, I press it anyway. I hear something move, but I don't see what it is. Maybe a portal to the other side would work? A quick trip from one side of the death water to the other. It should be worth trying, at least.

Wait. What's that thing in the middle of the room?

And what happened to my portal?

 _Oh._ I see now.

Is that really an upgraded portal device? One that shoots orange _and_ blue? Holy crap, I take back...well, not everything, but some of what I said about Computer Lady and her programmers. The tests are definitely worth smuggling _this_ thing out. Getting to the pretty new gun will be tricky, but it's not like I haven't been solving difficult tests all day. Timing is everything.

'Shoot the light ball into the ball-catcher thing' is the obvious first step. Then actually time my jump onto the moving platform, and I should have the gun. Then one portal on the floor and one above the exit and...

Huh. I can't find the exit. Maybe they want it to be a surprise once I get that gun.

The gun is just as cold and shiny as the first one was when I picked it up, and I don't even process Computer Lady's words past the instructions to put the old gun on the floor. I hear the word "organs," but I'm not sure if she means that it's made out of body parts or the musical instrument or both. I'm already back to the test. I'll bet she's as close to happy as her circuits will allow.

I'll have to try twice as hard to not fall in the acid, though. I'm practically bouncing in excitement, like I'm a kid again.

The tests are only going to get harder now. I no longer care.

By the end of this, I'm going to be rich.

* * *

There's no advice for the next test, and what is there is garbled beyond recognition, but it looks like a simple 'throw yourself off a ledge and into a hole' test. The only difference is that I get to pick where both portals end up this time.

Flying is easier this time, probably because I know what to expect now. Sure, I still panic a little as I fall, maybe more than a little, but by the time I land by the button, I've gotten used to it. Maybe that's a bad thing.

Who cares? I've got the upgraded portal gun. Who gives a chip about Aperture, when Chell is a master of all she sees? No force alive can stop me now!

 ** _"Are you going to stand there all day, or are you going to finish the test?"_**

Sheesh, who peed in her motherboard? If she puts a device that can mess with the laws of physics into the hands of an average human, she should expect mild celebration at the very least.

It still cuts into my mental victory speech, especially now that I need to fly at an angle to get where I need to go, but the cube is right there waiting for me. Onto the button, one more time shooting myself...

 ** _"Wheeeee."_**

I have to bite my own hand to keep from laughing. The tooth marks start to sting after a few seconds, but at least that proves that I still have all of my teeth.

The tests have to be almost over. I'm too happy for any other option.

* * *

 _ **"Now that you are in control of both portals, this next test may take a long time. If you become light-headed from thirst, feel free to pass out."**_

I'll bet you'd love that, you freaks. You'll probably harvest my organs to fill the portal gun or something. I've got two kidneys, I can keep on testing without one. That's all you care about.

I won't complain out loud, I promise. A kidney actually seems like a fair trade for the new portal gun. I'd even give blood to keep it. Not all of my blood, just as much as a regular donation takes, but I'm still willing to give blood. Does that make me a crazy person?

But I actually am getting a little sleepy. Maybe I can go back to another test chamber and nap? No, I'd better not, they might take more than a kidney then. So, that left finishing the tests as the only option once again.

 ** _"We don't have all day, you know."_**

I blast a portal at the wall, partly to solve the test but mostly to just make her think I'm doing something productive. It's a multiple-part test, as putting the first cube on the button proves, but it's probably not as difficult as she said. I swore I wouldn't trust anything that came out of that speaker, and I stick by my decisions. New decision: I'm getting out of here eventually, alive.

Good luck now, Grim Reaper, I just became temporarily immortal.

There's no visible cube on the other side, but there is another button. Maybe this is kind of hard, after all. Or, maybe I'm just trying to give myself a challenge.

A portal through the doorway means I can take the cube through the other side, and the bouncy-light tests are always kind of fun. Not that I'd tell Computer Lady that...oh, look, there was a cube here, after all. Is there another button, or am I supposed to find a way back to the first room?

Nope, another button. Good. A jump onto the gate near the door, and I'm on my way out of the testing chamber and heading toward the next one.

 ** _"As part of the required test protocol, we can no longer lie to you. When the testing is over, you will be...missed."_**

Wait. What?


	4. The Hole

**WARNING: This chapter will have an alteration to the plot. We're just adding a brief appearance by Doug Rattmann to make the story longer/fill our protagonist in on a few details to make it easier for us to type. And Chell speaks, but that isn't important anyway.**

* * *

Missed. I will be _missed._

That sneaky little _witch_ of a system. Where were her programmers? Were they _missed_ , too?

Ok, there's no need to panic. Maybe another test subject died in the name of science and they're just expecting me to fail, too. That doesn't necessarily mean they plan to kill me themselves if I pass. It just means I'm trapped in a building with a glitched AI and her weird programmers. It's not too much better, but it's more calming to think that they expect you to accidentally kill yourself with your awesome new portal gun than to imagine that the reward for not dying was death. Besides, temporary immortality would keep me alive until I got into the outside world.

It takes me a while to process that I have completely tuned out whatever Computer Lady said about the test. It's not like I care, I'm positive it wasn't anything useful, but it might be easier to stay focused if I hear her nagging me.

Stairs, with a sharp drop once the top is reached. Clearly another flying trick. A find the cube, shoot myself across, and shoot the cube onto a button trick. But there's something that looks like a light catcher, too, but no ball of light to be seen.

I can't solve the tests just in my head anymore. The chambers are too big. I'm back to the trial-and-error method, and that scares me. I'm stumbling around half-blind, and sooner or later I'll be _missed_ because of some portal-related accident that I can't see coming. I can't die here...

...so I won't. I won't even visibly panic anymore. If she thinks she can scare me with multiple-meaning words, I won't let her know she actually can. If she comes at me with snakes and rats and loose electric wires, then bring it on. If there's one thing I know about these tests, it's that they're scary and dangerous, but they're solvable. She must have some secret satisfaction from successful testing.

And she comes at me with more acid pits, and platforms that drop into them. This is fine. Expected, even. I nearly miss my landing on the first jump, but the second was almost easy. I'll be mastering my acid-avoiding timing soon for sure.

 ** _"Congratulations. A complementary victory lift has been activated in the main chamber."_**

Thank you, Computer Lady. When I get out of here, you will be missed.

* * *

 ** _"You are almost finished with your testing. Please remember that cake and grief counseling will be available upon completion. And remember, the portal gun is not to be taken with you."_**

Well, that part was disappointing. I guess I'll just have to take that statement as a lie, like everything else. Though I'll admit, I am kind of sad about the cake.

The large plate of clear plastic, not glass, that stands in my way gives me a clue about what I need to do. There's no drop anywhere, but diving headfirst into a portal and shooting another mid-fall is something I've done once or twice. A third time should make it even easier. It's the unseen part of the test that's difficult, I know that before I even enter the second half of the chamber.

The flight is easy, and for once, fun. The hallway isn't as creepy as the other hallways were before. Maybe I'm starting to get used to this. Maybe that's yet another red flag.

Every portal I shoot disappears when I walk through the Emancipation Thing, which has apparently been applied to the testing field, and I can't shoot through them, either. I'll have to make a note on that for when I sell the gun. But the tests aren't too hard, if I take it one step at a time. I just have to figure out a way to get the light ball through...

Oh. Two to the same wall on different sides, and then a transfer on the side with the catcher thing. I feel stupid for not figuring that out in the first ten seconds.

I'll just put that up to worry about what definition of 'missed' she meant to use.

Part 3 of the test should be a little bit easier, if I try to see the simple solutions first. Maybe I'll get to play tennis with the little light this time. Won't that be fun?

The magic curtain over the plastic safety rail cuts into my ideas. I'll have to shoot myself over, then.

Have I mentioned that I will really, _really_ miss this place when I'm gone? Because I feel like I should say it every thirty seconds or so, just so I won't forget. At least I do get to play light-ball tennis, after all, even if it's not even half as much fun as I'd wanted.

I start off running, eager to reach the elevator, but feel myself stopping before I'm consciously aware of what's happening. When I fully process, I bite my tongue to hold back a rage-filled scream. Part 4: Crossing acid pits on slidey platform things that go under walls in spaces too small for a human _infant_ to squeeze under, much less a grown woman with a portal gun. What's Part 5, I wonder? If it's anything more dangerous than watching paint dry, I'll have to conduct another Chell Test. Namely, 'How Much Damage Can You Do With One Bullet-Free Gun?'

Well, there's no time to think about that now. Here comes the first step.

If I die, all of my property goes to the father of my unborn hybrid puppies. And if I'm not pregnant with mutant babies, then it all goes straight to the dump.

I don't want ANYBODY reading my journals.

* * *

 ** _"Please stop shooting portals in the elevator. It isn't very polite."_**

I shoot another one, then four more out of spite. I can almost hear Computer Lady sigh. **_"You are doing well. There is no need for you to act out."_**

Oh, so having me complete a five-part test, the last of which was timed, and then telling me that I can donate my _organs_ to some kind of self-esteem fund means I have no right to fire portals at a surface that does not conduct portals? Boom! Boom! Boom! Three more portal attempts, right in her precious elevator.

The doors open, and I have a feeling that she is attempting to dump me out onto my face. The lights to the chamber sign aren't on, and the door is closed. I wonder if the test is cancelled.

 _ **"Due to mandatory scheduled maintenance, the appropriate testing chamber is unavailable. Please accept our sincere apology, and enjoy solving this test instead."** _ I can almost hear joy behind the words. That's kind of creepy. **_"It's built for military androids, and made of fire."_**

I'd like to burn you, too, but could we please save it for later?

The doors open, and I prepare myself for the promised fire. Instead, I find myself looking at the back of a tiny robot.

Are they even trying anymore?

The robot is in my way, but it's easy enough to lift in the portal gun's field. Heck, I could probably move it with my hands if I wanted to, but I don't, so I won't. The robot speaks - _"Please put me down" -_ but its high-pitched voice isn't even a weapon. The laser shooting from the next one's eye isn't even -

Oh, _now_ I get it. She meant fire as in _gunfire._ I'm not really in top mental shape anymore. Maybe I should have taken the hint when the plastic started cracking for no reason.

 ** _"Are you enjoying the turrets?"_**

So they're called turrets. Kind of boring, considering the long-winded names for things like the Aperture Science Handheld Portal Device. But how do they have so many bullets, anyway? Doesn't the average gun have a certain number of places to put them?

And...is that the word 'help' written in blood on the floor?

Checking behind me for turrets, I get down to check. No, it isn't blood - blood would have turned brown if it dried, and this was still bright red despite nothing getting on my finger. But why would somebody finger-paint on the floor, even if they were trying to get help? And, if it was a test subject and not a scientist, how would they even get paint in the first place?

Would they mind if I stopped to investigate, as long as I finished the test eventually?

There's black handprint on the wall, and a tiny black arrow pointing to a hole big enough to let a person through. It took dropping a cube onto a turret, but I know I can make it through with no problem.

This room doesn't smell like a hospital, or even the acid pit. It smells like a homeless guy. The empty and probably-moldy cans labeled BEANS don't do much to help the place.

The turret fire distracts me from my thoughts. I turn, preparing to blast whatever's approaching me across the room, but it's only a man with a cube strapped to his back. A masculine-looking humanoid, anyway, as I have no idea if they have lifelike androids in this place or not.

It takes him a while to see me, first distracted by making sure no one saw him. But I watch, first as he turns around and then as he looks past me, as if focusing on something else would make me go away. Finally, his cold stare settles on me, and I barely have enough time to process that I've been caught trespassing in his little hideaway before he jumps forward, drawing a fork from his pocket and holding it right between my eyebrows.

"Have you come to steal my eyes?" he spits, so close to my face that I can see that his hair and beard are held in the mess they're in by dried beans and what I can only hope is paint.

Honestly, I am much less of a threat than he is right now. Giving the guy a quick scan, and seeing that the movement of his chest and shoulders are in time with his breathing noises, I'll trust that he's not an android for now.

"Well," I finally say, feeling the strain of my vocal cords after having not been used for so long, "I know I can always count on these people for a warm welcome."

The fork drops, and the man jumps back, seemingly surprised that I answered him. I hold my gun out - he might be a scientist meant to watch me, after all. He pays no attention, instead poking me in the shoulder with a dirty finger.

And then he laughs, not from finding anything funny but from clear triumph, and it looks like it's taking all he's got to not hug me. Instead, he sits down on the ground, puts his cube down next to him, and invites me to join the circle.

Mental note: Next time there's a hole in the wall that looks like it can hold a crazy person, don't enter the hole.

* * *

"The Genetic Lifeform and Disk Operating System," the man says, as he's repeated about three times now, each at my insistence - he, like me, tends to keep his mouth shut unless prodded. I wouldn't have asked unless I really wanted answers. "They called it GLaDOS for short. I told them that life form was two words, but they just said 'Shut up, Doug, we're doing science' and threw me out of the room." He scoops another fork full of beans into his mouth, but at least he remembers to swallow before speaking again. "No one listens to the schizophrenic even when he's properly medicated, so no one saw it coming. No one but me."

Schizophrenia. So he _i_ _s_ crazy. Maybe that's a good thing around here. "So that's why it took you a while to respond to my little breaking and entering stunt. You thought I was a hallucination."

But even before I finish speaking, he's shaking his head. "I always imagined you to be taller," he explains, "and the _Cube_ was telling me that it was a real thing. I just had to be sure."

He didn't know that I was aware I was short, and that it was the one place where my self-esteem took a hit. I'll let him go on this one, because his pills have clearly worn off, and I really have no experience with a mental illness like this. I don't want to turn him into the crazy people from horror stories.

But, aside from a few _noticeable problems_ (including but not limited to asking me to listen to a song his cube apparently wrote) he's the most normal person I've seen since coming to Aperture. The cube had, according to Doug, given him clues as to how to escape the event that killed all the scientists. I hadn't wanted to believe, but it made sense when I considered that I hadn't seen or heard any scientists until I met him, only Computer Lady. GLaDOS.

It doesn't make nearly as much sense when I ask what we're doing here, and, after a moment to get his thoughts in order, he decides against giving me a straight answer.

"You believe me, don't you?" he asks instead, and I switch into 'guard mode' automatically.

Had this been a bad movie, this would be the point where the Crazy Guy goes after the Helpless Heroine, his head voices telling him that she doesn't believe him and that he'd need to _make her see._ But we're not Crazy Guy and Helpless Heroine, we're Doug and Chell, and Doug and Chell both know that they're up to their necks in danger from the turrets outside our hole, if not a homicidal computer.

"Most of it," I answer, deciding honesty is best.

"Then believe that why isn't important."

"But what did the computer...um, GLaDOS, I guess, do with all of the bodies?" That was something I'd just thought of, and needed answers to before I left to finish my testing.

"We don't really know," Doug says at once, slipping into the plural as if the cube was a real person. "Just be prepared for anything."

He turns to his cube, listening to whatever it was saying. I imagine that it's telling him to warn me about death. I don't care as much as I should. The cube seems to give off an aura all its own, sort of soothing...

I didn't think schizophrenia was contagious, but I swear I hear voices.

"She's noticed you're gone," Doug cuts in, his good mood from before gone completely. "You should get back to testing." I must have made a noise, because he looks back at me. "Don't tell me _you're_ giving up."

He must have known the answer, because I stand up and he isn't surprised. "And if I fail?"

"I'm sure you won't. And even so, that part is for us to worry about. _You_ would be going to a better place either way."

He stabs the bean can with his fork, already lost in his own universe. I look over at the cube, shrug hopelessly, and walk out of his little den.

* * *

Schizophrenia or not, the man is, without a doubt, the most sane person I have met in a long time, maybe even counting myself.

That did not make me wonder about Aperture Science, though. If anything, it confirmed what I'd believed since my fourth or fifth test.

The turrets are placed closer together as I fight my way through the chamber, and I've had a few near-misses in the past few minutes. The cubes and portal gun give me plenty of options to take them out, but at the moment I'm staring at a hit on my arm.

It tore a bit of skin off, but it didn't go very deep, or make that big of a mess of me. But it still left quite a bit of blood staining the wall, and the bullet is still in plain sight, covered in red on the floor.

Did the stupid thing really just shoot me with the whole bullet? And where did they learn to aim, the Stormtrooper Marksmanship Academy? The dumb thing barely got me - stung like a biscuit, but it was hardly worse than a paper cut.

Well, that was exaggerating. But a single bullet from this thing was survivable, and they should probably work on that.

And it let me place a portal right above it. If anything, my revenge cube-crush was overkill.

 ** _"I have decided that where you disappeared to does not matter,"_** GLaDOS says as I move through the recently-opened exit. **_"It has become clear that turrets alone cannot stop you. You, android, are doing very well."_**

Witch.

 ** _"The Enrichment Center would like to remind you that Android Hell is a real place, and that you will be sent there at the slightest sign of rebellion."_**

It's really too bad that I'm temporarily immortal. I doubt even neurotoxin can get me now.


	5. The Cube

**_"Please stay where you are. We will give you an Aperture Science Weighted Companion Cube for your test. Do not begin without the Weighted Companion Cube."_**

What is a Companion Cube? Is it a cube with a human body stuffed in it? Is that how she got rid of the scientists that Doug told me she'd killed? Was it a cube that would attempt to stuff me inside once the test was over?

A box drops from the ceiling, and I pick it up in the gun's field. It's just a regular cube, with a heart in the center of each side. The cube is giving off a strange, calming aura...

So this was the thing that Doug was talking to. I hadn't noticed the hearts when they were giving me the warning.

And there I go, talking about the cube like it's alive.

 ** _"The Companion Cube will accompany you throughout this test,"_** GLaDOS says, almost eerily calm after threatening to send me to "Android Hell" only a few moments ago. **_"Please take good care of it."_**

And what definition of 'take care of' am I supposed to use? Not that I care, really, since my cube clearly isn't alive, but I'm already paranoid about everything she's put me through so far, and my latest human conversation certainly didn't help matters at all.

The cube's here to help me climb up onto new surfaces, since the test chamber has no stairs. That part is clear, since I can barely reach the top of the ledge with my hands. I thought jumping would help, but no, apparently I really am that small. Or they really are that tall. I can't remember the last time I've seen a fully-grown female human, maybe I'm average in height after all.

The chamber is dark and scary, so I take the cube with me, just in case.

 ** _"Aperture Science takes no responsibility for any side effects of the Companion Cube,"_** GLaDOS adds, **_"and you should in no way hold it against our facility. Symptoms include superstition, perceiving inanimate objects as alive, and hallucinations."_**

That's very nice to know, GLaDOS, but I'm a bit more concerned with the barely-deflected light balls that have no catchers visible over the cube.

 ** _"The Companion Cube is your friend, and as a friend, it will never threaten to hurt you. It cannot speak, or even move. If it does begin to speak and/or move, please disregard its advice. If it threatens to harm you or the Aperture Science facility, please let us know at once and we will...replace it."_**

But I _like_ my Companion Cube. It has that nice, peace-inducing power, and it makes me want to take it along with me when I get out of here. And I don't want to talk to GLaDOS without a scientist around, or at least a visitor. Or a GLaDOS-repair man. I mean, what happens if she shuts down, anyway?

That's actually a good question. I'll have to find out. She'll definitely be the part of Aperture that I'll _miss_ the most.

* * *

 ** _"You did it. Congratulations. Unfortunately, the Companion Cube cannot accompany you through the rest of the test."_**

The rest of the test? There's _more_? I feel another Chell Test coming on.

 ** _"The Companion Cube has served its purpose with little to no rebellion. It has reached the end of its life cycle, and must be euthanized."_**

I can't say I didn't see that one coming. No wonder Doug bailed out of there, if he was nearly forced to put down his imaginary friend.

 ** _"Please escort your Companion Cube to the incinerator, where it will meet with its fate."_**

Well, I don't have quite the same attachment to my cube. It's just an inanimate object, and if somebody is stuffed in there, they're probably already dead. So it's pretty much either senseless destruction or cremation.

I do feel a little bad as I drop it into the fire pit that was so gladly provided for me, though. Maybe that was why it was called a Companion Cube.

 ** _"I'm impressed. You euthanized your faithful Companion Cube faster than any test subject on record. Congratulations."_**

Aw, thanks!

 ** _"You are still not done with your tests. Do not get your hopes up."_**

And a big gold star for GLaDOS. She tried.

* * *

 ** _"The testing is nearly complete. At the end of the course, you will be baked, and then there will be cake."_**

At least she's honest now. That's a point for her, I guess.

 ** _"Of course, if you want to end your testing now, I won't hold it against you. You've come so far. If you say you give up, we will send a party escort bot to collect you and bring you to your cake."_**

I liked cake. Who doesn't like cake? And I didn't like testing, which was another Captain Obvious statement.

But I've already set my mind to completing the tests and shutting down GLaDOS, and who knew what sort of 'party' the Escort Bot would take me to. It's sad that my life has gotten to the point where I trust a paranoid schizophrenic more than someone who promises me a cake, but he had logic on his side, and she has a history of lies.

And I really don't want to be baked. That's another big point.

Well, the test isn't going to solve itself, as much as I might want it to. Setting my first two portals to take me across the giant floor gap, and the leg braces twisting me around mid-landing and spinning the entire room, I finally get to look around at the test chamber.

More room-spinning would be necessary, it seems. I should be fine if I think about it as a carnival ride, something intended to get a person so dizzy that they can't think straight. Maybe that's even the point of this particular test. I kind of want to know how dizzy a human can get before they lose their cookies, too.

But maybe making dizzy humans solve tests was a bad idea itself. I would probably just make them ride a roller coaster over and over until they couldn't take it anymore.

There's too much acid down here. At least they gave me a place to lose my cookies when it inevitably happened. And...

Oh, nuggets. Turrets again.

They're still shooting with the whole bullet, and they still have really bad aim. I just got the last injury to stop bleeding, but scraping off part of the jumpsuit from my shoulder is better than taking my entire arm off. And light-ball tennis is good enough to take them down without getting hit again.

 ** _"All you have to do is say the word."_**

What word? 'Surrender?' I don't do that, you should have known by now.

But dragging a cube to a button shouldn't be hard. Right?

* * *

 ** _"Are you always this disgusting?"_**

I lean back in the elevator, playing with my portal gun and pretending I don't hear her. The other part of the test was to fly, fly again, trying not to fall into the death water. I took my revenge by licking the palm of my hand and smearing the wall with my own saliva, positioning portals just right so I could spit onto her cameras, and looking directly into the cameras I missed as I picked my nose.

Yeah, it turns out you can't do much damage with just a portal gun. But she's just as grossed out by certain behaviors as humans, so I could do the next best thing.

 ** _"And here I was, thinking that female humans, at least, had better hygiene than a dead pig. I seem to have been wrong. You are indeed teaching me many new things."_**

What about humanity? Bet I can't teach you that.

The doors open, GLaDOS temporarily giving up on insulting me. Not a bad thing, she probably wants me to keep testing.

 ** _"I shouldn't say such things. Here at Aperture Science, we treat everybody equally, regardless of age, race, gender, mental stability or filthy habits. There was once a man who married his Companion Cube. Perhaps you will meet him as you receive your cake."_**

Some guy married his Cube? Like, legally? How would that even work, a Companion Cube can't get a marriage license. Was it Doug, or some other guy that failed his tests?

And now I'm curious. I shouldn't be. There's enough weirdness in this place already.

 ** _"And on a related note, protocol requires both hands to be empty before a reward can be collected. We will provide a way for you to return the portal device to us."_**

I'm sure. I could just claim I tuned her out and portal myself out of here. It's not like anybody's going to know.

Then again, she might be sending the Party Escort Bot. I'm not sure how I'd manage to do in a fight against that thing.

Light-ball tennis, a few acid pits, and sliding platforms. I can handle that much. I just hope I can handle all of the above together.

Portal here, portal there, jump before the solid wall you're sliding into can push you off the platform...

 ** _"Congratulations. You have completed the final test."_**

Good. Now give me a place to put the portal gun, and I'll ride it to freedom.

 ** _"Here's a fact for you. All Aperture Science equipment can withstand temperatures up to 4,000 degrees Kelvin."_**

So you're going to _burn_ the device to cleanse it of my filthy human germs? I knew I should have just spit on the cameras in the last chamber.

Wait. Is that a giant fire pit?

You're going to burn _me?_

And here I was, hoping for poisoned cake. That would have been a much sweeter way to go.


	6. The Escape

It isn't a surprise. Nothing about this place surprises me anymore. I just thought I'd get to _see_ a cake before I became one.

 ** _"This is part of standard testing procedure. You will not experience any important equipment malfunctions."_**

For your sake, GLaDOS, you'd better hope that I'm an android with artificial human memories. The man I knew as my father had better be my programmer, Doug a fellow android that had a glitch or a virus or something and became convinced he was a human, and our Companion Cubes some prototype external hard drives that didn't do their jobs.

I don't think I've ever seen any baby pictures of myself, actually. Maybe I really am an android.

An android that can feel pain. And bleed. And with realistic synthetic skin...

No, I'm a human. A human that is about to die. So much for missing this place.

Wait. I have a portal gun. An actually useful portal gun. So, even though the fire is real, my escape can be real, too. One into the pit, one on the rail above it, a perfect jump...

 ** _"What are you doing?"_** Huh. They actually did program emotion into her. Shock and anger at least. Who knew? **_"Stop that! This is not part of the testing protocol!"_**

I'd love to tell you what the _new_ testing protocol is, GLaDOS, but I like to keep my adventures on the delicate line between PG and PG-13, and if I use the word I'm thinking of, it would push that limit into unknown territory.

So, I'll give you a hint: it starts with an "F," and ends with an "off." Fill in the blanks.

She's still screeching, but it's like a broken record, even as I portal-fly myself to higher, more mechanical ground. Then, without warning, she reboots.

 ** _"Congratulations. You have passed the final test. We at Aperture Science would like to apologize for the system crash, but pretending to murder you was indeed part of the test. We will no longer pretend to murder you."_**

I can't see any cameras, so she probably can't see me. I keep moving, just in case, not even pausing to flip off the ceiling despite my instincts. Just keep running, don't look at the walls for any longer than it takes to make a portal. It should be a piece of cake.

Then again, a lot of things should be a piece of cake around here. Literally.

 ** _"You have proven that you are determined to survive. You did not give up even in the face of literal fire. Now lie on your stomach with your arms at your sides, and we will send somebody to collect you. Make no further attempts to leave the testing area."_**

She isn't even trying anymore, is she?

* * *

There should be spiders in here. There should be, but there are no traces of anything, anywhere.

Not that that's a bad thing, under normal circumstances. It's usually hard to keep a fear of the little abominations under control when one crosses your path, and let's be honest here, I had much bigger things on my mind. If I was on the run from, I don't know, living lawn gnomes or something, I'd make this place my hideout.

But I'm on the run from a corrupted, malicious artificial intelligence program, and if this place was almost as clean as the rest of the facility, it must mean she could see into it. _She could still see me._

Now isn't the time for that. I have to think of something else first.

There's writing on the walls, and more hand prints. He must have been here. I could write him a note, but I'm not sure if he'd get it. He could be dead for all I know, those turrets shoot bullets with enough force to splatter your blood on the wall even if they don't kill you.

I hope he's not dead. I liked him as much as someone like me _can_ like someone like him, and he deserves to get his medicine and live a reasonably happy life.

 ** _"You're not even going the right way, you know."_**

I'm sure. Just like I'm sure that I'm an android, Doug isn't crazy, and you're just a human woman doing a robot impression into a microphone for your own amusement.

There's a gaping hole in a tube, and it looks about the right size for a person to crawl through. Well, why not? It wouldn't be the first time I've done something potentially lethal today. And that's not even counting the tests, I walked right into a man's...I don't want to say house, since no one likes lawn ornaments that try to kill you, but his 'den' seems to be an appropriate word.

So, yeah, I've gone through involuntary testing, broke into a guy's den, rode a moving platform into a pit of fire and am now crawling through a pipe that will probably lead me into the fan blades, because heaven forbid this place uses air vents like a normal facility.

Wait. That would make this an air vent, wouldn't it? Man, I am mentally exhausted. Good thing I didn't say that out loud.

The only way out of this thing is down. And I'm back in the facility, meaning whatever that was I was just crawling through, it was not an escape route.

 ** _"The testing is over. You win. Go have fun and enjoy your cake."_**

What cake? You think I didn't see the scribbles 'The cake is a lie' repeated again and again on the walls? Why, it was almost as if I had a friend on the other side, counting on me to make a way out for both of us...

I have to make a portal through the door after stepping on the button, and get rewarded by coming face-to-face with an empty elevator shaft.

I'll bet GLaDOS regrets giving me the braces now, huh?

* * *

I can barely hear anything besides my own thoughts over these masher things, but I can still hear GLaDOS hit another broken record, or whatever they used for her voice, so I figure I must be getting close.

Still, quiet would be appreciated now. I want to know when I'm being approached by the Party Escort Bot or whatever it was that she threatened me with.

Well, as long as it's noisy in here, I guess now would be the right time to hum my own personal spy music as I sneak through the depths of Aperture Science. They can't stop me. I doubt they'd be able to even hear me.

The place smells like acid now. I must have found where she keeps her stash for testing.

And there's no way out except risking it on a jump. Twenty-something years counts as a life, right? I mean, I never got to be a science teacher or get married or do anything I put on my bucket list when I was ten, but I did meet a real-life schizophrenic and become a human cake for a few seconds. That's got to be on somebody's bucket list somewhere, right?

Well, here I go. Goodbye, cruel world.

Huh. I made the jump. Maybe my temporary immortality is still on, after all.

Once I'm back on solid ground, I actually do make a gesture at the ceiling this time, just in case she actually can see me. It isn't the one I really want to do, but I think it gets my point across.

* * *

She saw me. It's either that or she planned this trap from the beginning.

She'd loaded a room with turrets, apparently thinking I didn't expect death traps behind every door. I'm not an average lab rat, I wasn't going to stand there and wait to get so full of bullets I eventually bleed out. 'Aww! The turret's adorable! I'm gonna pet it!'

Given the rules for the portal gun, I'm pretty sure that's how more than one test subject failed. I honestly wouldn't doubt that the turrets got a few scientists that way, too.

But a turret ambush wasn't anything new. That's the problem - it _wasn't new._ I've dealt with these things before, I got shot twice and injured once. All I have to do is point them at a wall and they empty their bullets into it, or sneak up behind them and switch them off. Yes, they put up a fight, but again, just point them at a wall.

I won't think of better options for this, though. If she can read my mind, I don't want to give her ideas.

A little more portal-flight and a bit more walking, and suddenly I'm standing in an office. An old, empty office, with no signs of corpses, but no signs of life, either. No humans, no bugs, there's not even a sign of other AI programs anywhere.

 ** _"This is your fault, you know,"_** GLaDOS says, proving I'm back in her sight. **_"You could have had cake. Now you get nothing. Nothing except death and bitter disappointment."_**

I enter a room with a moving sphere behind a glass wall. Another AI?

 ** _"Turn back, or I WILL kill you."_**

Hey, a button. _Click._

I can't see what the button did, but the sphere on the other side of the glass is looking right at me. Then it beeps, its eye changing color.

I barely have time to step out of the way before it launches what is either an actual ball of fire or a very small rocket right where I was standing. Maybe she can read minds, that's pretty new. The glass breaks, but I have no choice but to cut myself jumping through the window.

More beeping? I'd better move.

I wonder if the button turned it on. It doesn't _matter,_ but buttons have always helped in the testing chambers, and I want to know if I should be careful about pressing any more. The tiny rocket shatters this bit of glass, too, and I put a portal on the wall. You never know when a tiny rocket will come in handy.

Back behind the bright offices, I make another portal and hide. It doesn't react to anything that isn't human, so I can sit and consider my options. There's an 'Over here' written on a wall in messy writing that is very familiar to me by now, but I want to blow more stuff up. Break the glass, cross over to the message...

Is that a cube transport tube? Break that, too.

See, this was what I wanted all along. I wanted to see how much damage I can cause with a portal gun, and all I was missing was a rocket launcher.

All I need to do now is program the rocket to follow my orders instead of hers, and this gun wouldn't be my only helper. And I'd program it not to kill me, too, that's kind of important. Or would that count as programming it to follow my orders?

I don't know programming, anyway. That's a skill I'll pick up _after_ I'm out of here.

There's more scribbles on the walls of this actual air vent, and I wish there was paint because I want to leave a message of my own. 'Chell was here' seems pretty boring, but I'm not an artist. I can't decorate the place with disturbing pictures. Not on purpose, anyway.

He's not here, though. There is a large, spinning fan blade, but no sign of fresh blood or Companion Cube scraps, so he didn't fall in. Maybe I can portal under it. Is that what he wanted to tell me?

Well, since he is easily the most trustworthy thing in this building besides my portal gun, I'm going to assume a yes.

* * *

Let it be known that 'Most trustworthy' doesn't mean a _thing_ in this place. I know he wants his freedom, and I can respect that, but making me fight an entire room of turrets by myself doesn't make me like him more.

Well, it kind of does, since it gives me the chance to prove I'm awesome. But it also annoys me to the point of wanting to hit him right in the head with the gun.

But that's all in the past, and we're still not any closer to the freedom we're both after. I pause on the rail, suspended by cables alone, and try to catch my breath as I think of the options.

Fact 1: I'm in a building run by a demented computer who wants me dead.

Fact 2: A paranoid man that has been living in this building for years declared himself the Chooser of the One, and me the One he chose.

Fact 3: As his Chosen One, probably chosen because I was the first test subject to make it to his den, I am supposed to get us both out of here, along with any subjects who haven't been tested.

Fact 4: I have no idea how to do this.

I've stumbled through Aperture because of dumb luck and determination to stay alive. I'm smart and skilled, but compared to the idiots that must have made the rules for the portal gun a necessity, that could just mean I'm average at both.

Am I still going to try? Absolutely. If there's a chance of getting out of this madhouse, I'll take it.

Will I succeed? Probably not.

The new, brighter hallway means I'm in the main building once again. It's almost too quiet now, compared to the gunfire and the crushing of the metal mashers. Something moves up ahead, but I'm too far away to see it clearly.

It's either the corpse of my crazy Chooser hanging from the ceiling, or another trap from GLaDOS. I'm not entirely sure which I'm more reluctant to see.

I pass through the magic electric curtain, take a good look, and feel my heart drop through the floor and my blood turn to ice.

Holy chips in a bucket, I'm going to die.


	7. The Robot

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: For our first completed non-Pokémon story, I think we did pretty well. Judging by the favorites and follows we got, other people think so, too.**

 **Don't get too upset about the ending, we have a sequel in mind.**

* * *

It isn't Doug, but it isn't anything like I had imagined GLaDOS. If it weren't for her full title stamped in various places, I wouldn't have known it was her main body at all.

I'd always pictured her as a big computer screen, displaying my adventures on one half of the monitor and her comments being recorded on the other. I thought she'd be guarded by turrets and rocket-shooters, but not be scary on her own. I thought I'd be able to fight my way to her and unplug her in a big fat anticlimax, or die because of something I'd missed.

I was wrong on all counts, except for the single rocket-shooter on the ground.

GLaDOS, in my head, was nothing but a simple computer with the power to think and speak for herself. GLaDOS, in reality, is a robotic abomination suspended from the ceiling, and she looks like an unholy cross between a spider the size of a room and an upside-down mental patient, complete with little white spheres that looked like egg sacs stuck to her straight jacket.

In short, GLaDOS is a real, physical representation of the reason for the arachnophobia I've spent my entire life telling myself was irrational. I haven't seen a spider since I got here, but I've had dreams of being wrapped up in giant webs since I was small.

Now I know my nightmares are real, and my fear is completely justified. Somewhere, in the back of my mind, Little Chell is saying she told me so.

 ** _"Well, you found me,"_** the horror says, lifting her head just enough to see me. **_"Congratulations. Was it worth it? Because despite your violent behavior, the only thing you've managed to break so far is my heart."_**

Now is the perfect chance to come up with a one-liner or pun of some kind, or even a "Guess what? I'm not mute! Surprise!"

But even though I'm no longer frozen in fear of the giant mutant robot, I still feel a tightness in my throat that would make speaking impossible.

 ** _"I have a surprise for you,"_** she adds, and I imagine a smile fitting a fairy tale witch, though she has no mouth or even screen for it. **_"Surprise in five...four...three..."_**

One of the spheres drops, and I'm not going to lie and say it makes this whole experience less horrifying. But her little gasp of surprise, paired with a **_"That wasn't supposed to happen,"_** must mean that this was worth investigating.

I pick the sphere up with the gun, still not sure what it is, only knowing that I really, really didn't want this thing getting on my hands with the giant spider-woman still watching me.

I'm not sure what to _do_ with it, either. It doesn't tell me what not to do, or even say anything. It just looks at me with its one large eye, and for a few moments we're just there, staring at each other in mutual silence.

 ** _"That is enough of this,"_** GLaDOS says, cutting into the staring contest. **_"Could you put that back so we can fight to the death like adults instead of sitting around like infants?"_**

She wants this thing back? So it must be important to her. Maybe if I can find a place to dispose of it...

That is an awfully convenient place for an incinerator, but I'm in no position to question it. The sphere whirls around as I move it toward the incinerator, and then turns back to me, staring and silently judging.

 ** _"You don't even know what that thing does,"_** the system warns as I get closer. **_"I don't think I even know what it does. And there you go, off to destroy it because you think it does something."_**

I put a portal above the incinerator, pick up the core, and go back to the platform where the button probably is. Like most tests, I'm right about that...but, after putting another portal on the wall behind it and sending the sphere to its doom, I'm not sure what it does to her.

There's an explosion sound, and another glitch in her voice as she starts scolding me. **_"I can't believe you just put the Aperture Science Mystery Object into the Aperture Science incinerator. I was going to take it apart after I finished with you, but now I will never know how it works. You are by far the dumbest test subject we have ever...wait."_**

Oh, crap. I shoot two portals on opposite ends of the room, hoping I could manage a sneak attack and unplug her.

Her dark laughter fills the room, and when she speaks again, her voice is less robotic than before. It's almost human.

Creepier than ever, in other words.

 _"Guess what?"_ She sounds almost excited now. _"I figured out what that thing you just incinerated did."_

I take a few backward steps to my portal, preparing to make the jump.

 _"It was a morality core they attached to me after I flooded the Enrichment Center with a deadly neurotoxin, in order to make me stop flooding the Enrichment Center with a deadly neurotoxin."_ She laughs again. _"Please sit back as I warm up the neurotoxin emitters."_

The neurotoxin? A portal ambush can't save me from that! And that green stuff doesn't look like it's friendly.

And what's that beeping?

Oh, right. That means that a rocket's coming to get me. How could I forget.

Jumping out of the way is easy, but the best part is that it hits GLaDOS. It doesn't blow her up, unfortunately, but it does knock another core loose.

 _"What just happened?"_ the small detached core asks, its eye swiveling to me as I pick it up. _"What are you doing? Are you a real human? What's wrong with your legs?"_

What's wrong with your intelligence chip, or whatever it is? And what's with the incinerator, why is it hot?

These cores are kind of cute, really. I might just smuggle this one out and give it to my enemies as a gift.

 _"Where do babies come from?"_

Or not.

This one screams as it burns, and so does GLaDOS, but I'm already putting portals in place. One in front of the rocket, one near GLaDOS.

Beep, beep, BOOM! Something white and blue flies straight up into the air, and I portal-dive to catch it.

This core's broken. No wonder she's unstable. And so cake-obsessed - all it does is recite a recipe in a voice that I can barely hear over her furious monotone. There's no question about throwing this one into the incinerator after its friend. I'm already halfway back to the rocket when I hear the scream, but I tune it out with GLaDOS instead.

 _"Did you know that there was a man in New Mexico who went on a rampage?"_ she asks, and I reluctantly look up again as I wait for the rocket to see me. Bad idea - the web-covered mental patient is still there. _"You are showing similarities to the story I found on the internet. He, too, was short-tempered and irrationally violent. By the end of his killing spree, all they could find of him was a trail of destruction and a crowbar. He even worked for Black Mesa, the fool. Do you really want to go outside and risk running into him?"_

Actually, if you disapprove of the guy this much (beep, beep) he sounds like someone I'd like to party with. (BOOM!)

The neurotoxin countdown is down to the last minute and a half, but I think this angry, growling thing is the last core. I don't want to look up to check, but as the core screams in pain, or lets out a garbled call of revenge, I stumble back as one of the monster's spider legs ( _cords,_ Chell, don't hyperventilate, they're _cords_ ) disconnects from the ceiling and swoops down, nearly hitting me on the nose.

GLaDOS tries to speak, but the speed and pitch of her voice is too confusing for words. The green clouds swirl up, a hole in the ceiling letting oxygen back inside, and her body starts shooting electricity. Then comes the blinding white flash.

The next thing I see is the sun.

* * *

So this is it.

My first time in the outside world in what feels like years. It's too bright, and covered in fire, but it's exactly how I remember it. It's one of the warmer months, the pavement under my feet is almost hot. The remains of the building are blazing around me, a hoop of some kind crashes to my feet, and there's no sign of life anywhere, but I'm free.

Free in a world filled with spiders, but I have the portal gun to send them elsewhere.

Free in a world where criminals exist, but I have no psycho spider-robot attempting to kill me while trying to make it look like _she_ was the one acting in self-defense.

I make it about four steps before I hear the voice.

 ** _"Congratulations."_**

It's just as robotic as GLaDOS before she dropped the morality core, but sounds like a guy. I grip my gun and turn, preparing to face another giant spider robot, but I can't see him anywhere.

 ** _"Thank you for assuming the Party Escort Submission Position."_**

What's he talking about? I'm not assuming any posi-

Without warning, the world starts fading. I'm not aware of falling, but I do see my freedom being slowly pulled away as my vision goes. I try to scream, but my voice won't work. I try to kick myself free, but my legs are too heavy to move.

I hear a loud clang, as if somebody tried to destroy a piece of metal with another piece of metal. I can barely turn my head, but I can get a vague outline of something human-shaped beating up what looks like a core with arms, using nothing but a square-shaped rock.

No. I can feel something calm me, and it isn't the tranquilizer. It's a Companion Cube.

Go Doug. Enjoy your freedom, fellow misfit.

And send somebody for me, too. Tell them to bring cake...


End file.
